


Ties

by Viking_woman



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dom Lavellan, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Post Tresspasser, Restraints, Smut, Sub Solas, Under-negotiated Kink, needy Solas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 01:27:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17653397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viking_woman/pseuds/Viking_woman
Summary: Solas and Lavellan are fighting a covert war, where information and secrets are of the utmost value. Their relationship is complicated, though, and all is fair in love and war.For those of you who knows Iwyn Lavellan, this is a separate timeline where she does not reunite with Solas (yet?)





	Ties

**Author's Note:**

> Anon prompt on tumblr:
> 
> Lavellan seducing Fen'Harel for info, but like he knows that its a ploy all along but still lets it happen

His agent finds him at the inn, his hood drawn over his face as he sits in a darkened corner. She is robed too, revealing nothing of her features. A guesthouse in Marothius is no place for two elves to meet in the open. Not now, and not before.

He follows her upstairs, after she draws the correct sigil on his table. She slips into a room on the 3rd floor, and once he is inside too, locks the door behind them with an audible click. He hopes she has the information he is waiting for. He draws back his hood.

“Fen’Harel,” she says, and unwraps the cowl around her face, her red hair spilling out of the purple fabric. Her features achingly familiar, etched in his mind. This is no agent of his.

“Inquisitor.”

“You’re a hard man to track down, Solas.”

“And yet you managed, Iwyn.” Her name feels dangerous on his tongue. “My agent?”

“Is otherwise occupied.” She waves her hand. “You know I try not to harm them. Though I do say you’re getting bolder, or maybe your agents are getting sloppier. I caught her rifling through my drawers in broad daylight.”

He sighs, and Iwyn steps closer.

“Are you that desperate to spy on me?” She arches her eyebrow, her lips lifted in a half smile. As if this is a game between lovers, and not a war. “What did your agent look for, among my clothes?”

He doesn’t want to answer that. “It was risky for you to come here,” he says instead, and he means it. What can she possibly hope to gain?

She steps closer still, her hips swaying. His hands are trembling, wanting to reach for those hips, wanting to pull her close.

“I decided it was worth it.” She places her hand on his chest. “Solas.”

She is here for a reason, she has a goal and something she wants to obtain. He doesn’t care. She is here, in this room, too close and too far. He growls and gives in, pulling her close, one hand on her hip and one in her hair. They are kissing, foolishly and all consuming. Her lips are chapped and her mouth tastes like home.

“I’ve missed you,” she says, when their kiss ends.

“And I you.”

They are still close, her hand idly wandering up his chest where it is trapped between them. He leans in for another kiss.

She stops him, leaning back and lifting her hand.

“You should tell me what your agent was looking for.”

He doesn’t want to. All he wants to do is to kiss her, undress her, feel her against him. He wants to forget all that has come between them.

“Or I could leave,” she says.

He almost calls her bluff, but her eyes are sparkling with a dangerous, alluring edge, and he finds that he doesn’t want to.

“I will tell you, for another kiss.”

She smiles, pretty and self-assured. She kisses him lightly on his lips, far too brief for any satisfaction. She arches an eyebrow in a silent question, and he gives in.

“She was looking for communication about your diplomatic efforts with the Avvar.”

“Good,” she says. The praise goes straight to his dick, straining against his pants.

“What else can you tell me?” She slides her hand downwards, resting above his waistband. “Why do you care about the Avvar? Tell me, Fen’harel.”

“I’m concerned about you raising an army.” He tells the truth. She has been gaining allies in the strangest of places, and he knows she will interfere with her his plans.

“Tell me more,” she says, and presses her palm against his cock.

His control is shattered, and he wants to rut against her hand. He should not give in, he should regain control of himself and the conversation. She is leading him on, and the more information he divulges, the more reasons he has to prevent her leaving with it.

“What do you think to achieve, by coming here, by playing games?” he asks. He could capture her, kill her, so easily. The thought unsettles him deeply.

“Do you want me?” she asks, instead of answering. She is still too close, and he does want her. He nods.

“You’re right though. I shouldn’t have come here. You’re a dangerous man… Fen’Harel.” Her lips ghost over his jaw, her hand draws circles on his hip. “I’d feel a lot more safe if I tied you up.”

He should say no, he should push her out the room, and yet he doesn’t want to. He wants to play her game, he wants to forget the war and his plans. Besides, no matter what she does, his magic can easily free him, his power is so much greater than hers.

He finds himself agreeing, nodding. He had already given in the moment their lips met.

“Good,” she says, her voice dropping, making his cock twitch. She pushes him back to the bed. “Take your shirt off, and lie down.”

He does.

She crawls to sit across his chest, her hand sliding up his arm, making sure first one, then the other is stretched above his head. She bends her head to kiss him again, finally, and he groans when she bites his lips.

She loops something around his wrists, and there is sudden pull of magic, and the soft fabric tightens, and it feels like a drop of water runs down his arms. His magic gives way, wanes as under pressure, and he gasps.

“What…”

She licks a path down his collarbone, kisses down his chest. Her hand toys with his nipples.

“Tying you up wouldn’t matter much with your magic,” she says, and she crawls down his body, resting her hand on his erection. He can’t help but push into her.

“But what is this… where did you…” Her fingers dances across the fabric, a barely there pressure.

“Lots of interesting Tevinter magic… or maybe it was stolen Elven.” She hums, using her teeth and her hand to undo his laces. He tries to remember if he ever encountered this before, and her fingers graze along the hem of his pants, and his thoughts scatter.

She pulls his pants off, one leg and then the other, and before he can react his ankles are tied too, his legs pulled apart and the same slithering chill dampening his magic.

She rests her hand on his thigh. “You look good, at my mercy.”

His hips lift a little. She knows him too well. He is at her mercy, and he wants to be. Her touch, wandering, teasing, light, is a buzz beneath his skin, the restraints a freedom for his mind. He can pretend this is his only choice, that she tricked him. That he didn’t willingly walk into her trap.

She stops touching him.

“Is this what you want? I could undo these and leave?”

“Please,” he gets out. “Please continue.”

He craves her touch, her low chuckle at his words.

“You still haven’t told me anything. How many more agents do you have monitoring me?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“You want me to keep touching you, don’t you?” Her hand hovers over his cock, but she doesn’t touch it. He has already passed the point of no return, but it is still a game.

“I do, but I hardly think it’s fair. You do have the advantage, now. What can you tell me in return?“

“I don’t think I should play fair.”

She touches him, she grips his cock and pumps slowly, once. Then she lets go.

“Let’s try this again. I have the whole night.”

If he wasn’t so turned on, he’d laugh at the glint in her eyes, at the playfulness he loves. He will please her. Just this once.

“Five.”

“Good.”

She takes him in hand, firmer this time, and jerks him, counting aloud to five. When she stops, his cock pulses with need. His skin is sensitive, every fold of the rough sheet under him noticeable. It has been so long since she, since anyone, has touched him.

She runs her hand up his belly, and her body follows. She sits across him, her hand caressing his collarbones. He shudders. She is fully clothed still, but he imagines the sweet heat between her legs.

“I need some pretty words from those pretty lips,” she sighs, running her thumb across his lips. He sucks it into his mouth, and it is a small victory when she gasps.

“Tell me, Solas, what did you find in the Temple of Ghilan’nain? We know your agents were there.”

He chases her when she withdraws her thumb, but her hand is out of reach. She turns her attention to his ear, her finger caressing the sensitive shell.

“I asked you a question,” she says, and she pinches the tip. His cock twitch, and he almost laughs. It is not a true punishment.

“You will have to try harder if you want to know that,” he says.

She hums, and she slides off his body to sit beside him. She uses her and her mouth on his torso, touching and kissing and nipping and pinching, leaving fire in her wake. She works his thighs next, but she avoids his aching balls, his cock. When she stops, her mouth hovering over his cock, he is shaking with need.

“Now tell me what you found. At the Temple of Ghilan’nain.”

He can barely focus, but he calls up the memory. “Several old tomes. They were not important. I minor artifact that survived the years. It is not particular powerful.”

He is rewarded with her mouth around the head of his cock, her tongue swirling around him. She withdraws, again.

“And what’s the artifact used for?”

Astute, as always.

“It can find weaknesses in the veil.” He gave it to Ghilan’nain, so many years ago, without her knowing it’s true purpose. It was a good place to hide it.

“Very good.”

This time, she takes him fully into her mouth, using her hand to support the base of his cock. He bucks and strains against his bonds, and she sucks and sucks and sucks. He is hovering on the edge, his release just out of reach, when she pulls back and squeezes the base of his cock.

“Not yet.”

“Please, I need. I need you, _vhenan_. Please.” The begging comes easy. He wants her mouth, he wants her touch to him. He wants to forget who he is, and only exist for her, in all the ways that he can’t. He wants to come.

“You’re so beautiful.” Her eyes drink him in, looks at him like no one else does. She exhales and bites her own lips.

“Tell me where your base is.”

The harsh words cut through his want, his weightlessness bound by stones.

“No.”

She returns her attention, her mouth, her hand to his cock. She brings him higher than before, makes him moan and trash and beg again. She withdraws again, and again she asks him.

“Where, Solas?”

He should say no, but her breath is hot on him, and her lips are wet, and she licks a drop of precum off the tip of his cock. He tells her. He tells her all the paths, and the number of guards, all the secrets. She gently strokes him throughout, not enough, but full of promises.

“Thank you, _ma lath_ ,” she says, sweetly. “You better be right. If you are, maybe I’ll let you come. Next time.”

She kisses the tip of cock, and he doesn’t understand but she moves off him and the bed, leaving a cold desperation behind. She wraps her scarf around her hair, and unlocks the door. She blows him a kiss from the doorway, and then she is gone.

He is a fool. He doesn’t care. He strains, but he can’t turn, and there is no release, his cock only meeting empty air. His magic is frazzled and beyond his reach – but there, returning, and maybe he can… No. Not yet. His head sinks back on the bed.

It seems that he severely underestimated her.

Again.


End file.
